There was a general smile at this, and some murmurs of “She’s not so crazy on the food question.” “Poor child,” said Judge Duffy, “she is well dressed, and a lady. Her English is perfect, and I would stake everything on her being a good girl. I am positive she is somebody’s darling.” At this announcement everybody laughed, and I put my handkerchief over my face and endeavored to choke the laughter that threatened to spoil my plans, in despite of my resolutions. “I mean she is some woman’s darling,” hastily amended the judge. “I am sure some one is searching for her. Poor girl, I will be good to her, for she looks like my sister, who is dead.” There was a hush for a moment after this announcement, and the officers glanced at me more kindly, while I silently blessed the kind-hearted judge, and hoped that any poor creatures who might be afflicted as I pretended to be should have as kindly a man to deal with as Judge Duffy. “I wish the reporters were here,” he said at last. “They would be able to find out something about her.” I got very much frightened at this, for if there is any one who can ferret out a mystery it is a reporter. I felt that I would rather face a mass of expert doctors, policemen, and detectives than two bright specimens of my craft, so I said: “I don’t see why all this is needed to help me find my trunks. These men are impudent, and I do not want to be stared at. I will go away. I don’t want to stay here.” So saying, I pulled down my veil and secretly hoped the reporters would be detained elsewhere until I was sent to the asylum. “I don’t know what to do with the poor child,” said the worried judge. “She must be taken care of.” “Send her to the Island,” suggested one of the officers. “Oh, don’t!” said Mrs. Stanard, in evident alarm. “Don’t! She is a lady and it would kill her to be put on the Island.” For once I felt like shaking that good woman. To think the Island was just the place I wanted to reach and here she was trying to keep me from going there! It was very kind of her, but rather provoking under the circumstances. “There has been some foul work here,” said the judge. “I believe this child has been drugged and brought to this city. Make out the papers and we will send her to Bellevue for examination. Probably in a few days the effect of the drug will pass off and she will be able to tell us a story that will be startling. If the reporters would only come!” I dreaded them, so I said something about not wishing to stay there any longer to be gazed at. Judge Duffy then told Policeman Bockert to take me to the back office. After we were seated there Judge Duffy came in and asked me if my home was in Cuba. “Yes,” I replied, with a smile. “How did you know?” “Oh, I knew it, my dear. Now, tell me where was it? In what part of Cuba?” “On the hacienda,” I replied. “Ah,” said the judge, “on a farm. Do you remember Havana?” “Si, senor,” I answered; “it is near home. How did you know?”